


A Journey of A Thousand Miles

by DiamondsxStags



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, OFC is a Sri Lankan Tamil Buddhist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2856407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondsxStags/pseuds/DiamondsxStags
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tumultuous two years that included stays in a rehab center and a psychiatric hospital, Asrina Padaiyachi tries to get her life back together by applying for a job as the secretary for Dr Frederick Chilton, administrator of the Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Of course when she gets the job, the trouble starts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Journey of A Thousand Miles

**Author's Note:**

> Important note: The OFC is a Sri Lankan Tamil Buddhist and I am a half Maori half white Buddhist New Zealander so if I get anything wrong please feel free to correct me!

_Peace is a journey of a thousand miles and it must be taken one step at a time._  
-Lyndon B. Johnson (36th president of the United States of America, and the president who increased America's involvement in Vietnam, thus escalating the Vietnam war)

~

**Chapter One**

 

The last time Asrina was in a psychiatric hospital, she told herself she would never, ever, ever, go back to one. And yet here she was, being interviewed by the administrator of a psychiatric hospital to be his secretary. True, this was a hospital for the criminally insane rather than a regular psychiatric hospital for people who had suffered major nervous breakdowns like Asrina had two years ago, but it was still a psychiatric hospital. But a job was also a job and it was something Asrina dearly needed in order to get her life back together. At least, somewhat back together. After a short silence, Dr Chilton looked up from Asrina's resume.

"Well I must admit, I'm very impressed Miss Padaiyachi." He said. Asrina held back a wince. In the West, she had to put up with people mispronouncing her name and carrying on mispronouncing it because Asrina didn't possess the assertiveness necessary to correct them. It was one of the things that made her miss Dubai and Sri Lanka, because at least the people in those places knew how to pronounce her name. "But I'm afraid I have a question for you."

Asrina almost flinched. A question? How could he have a question? Her resume was perfect, she knew the people she had listed as references would give glowing praise, and despite not holding a secretarial position in the past, she had enough job experience to make up for that. "What's your question Dr Chilton?" She tried to sound calm but inside her heart was hammering.

"Yes, I'm afraid I must ask you why you would want to be my secretary." Dr Chilton looked over her resume again before looking back up at her.

Asrina furrowed her brow and tilted her head to the side, two signs that together signaled confusion. "I'm afraid I don't understand the question Dr Chilton." She said. She hated how stupid she sounded, but she truly didn't understand.

"Well according to this," Dr Chilton held up her resume, "you have a Bachelor in Quantum Physics, a Masters in Classical Studies and a PhD in English Literature." He set her resume back down and raised an eyebrow. "And that's all very impressive, to be honest I think you're a little overqualified and it makes me wonder why you'd settle for a secretarial position rather than something more advanced. Care to explain?"

Of all of the questions Asrina prepared herself for, that wasn't it. She tried desperately to think of a good response, but in the end the only sentence that came out of her mouth was: "I was looking for a job and the advertisement for this one was the first I saw." Immediately after the last syllable left her mouth Asrina regretted it.

Dr Chilton regarded her curiously before nodding. "Very well." He rose from his seat and Asrina saw that as an indication to do the same. "I'll be sure to let you know if you get the position." They shook hands politely and Asrina left Dr Chilton's office with only a slight nod.

As she walked down the long, vast, pure white hallways, Asrina tried not to think about the nastier parts of her stay at the Boston Psychiatric Hospital. But whenever she walked past a white clad orderly, Asrina's fingers twitched uneasily and by the time she reached the large doors that opened out into the big wide world, Asrina's heart was beating faster than a heart had any right to beat.

~

'Home' was a word whose meaning was jumbled up and confused to Asrina for various reasons, and as a result she rarely used it. At this current point in her life, when referring to 'home', Asrina was referring to an apartment in downtown Baltimore. The apartment was small but big enough to provide space for Asrina to comfortably live in and keep her possessions, among which included a small bronze statue of the Buddha, a gift her parents gave her after she left rehab and she took it with her to the psychiatric hospital and she had it with her now. She kept the statue in the living room, sitting on the mantel with sticks of jasmine incense on either side. Entering the living room now, Asrina went up to the incense sticks and lit them before bowing solemnly and respectfully to the Buddha before going to her room.

Of all of the rooms that had been in Asrina's life, it was usually the bedrooms that made her feel most at peace and most like 'home' (it should be noted that the kitchens felt a little like 'home' too but that was only because her mum was often in them and making fragrant smells, but in the kitchen of this apartment no matter how hard Asrina tried, she couldn't imitate the smells her mum was able to create flawlessly), and this bedroom was no different. The windows were wide open so the curtains fluttered freely, casting shadows on the white carpet and just touching the edge of the maroon and gold rug that Asrina bought from a shop on impulse while she was still living in Dubai. The amount of things from Dubai that Asrina still owned came up to a grand total of three; that rug, a copy of the Qu'ran in Arabic, and a photo of her fiance Sana. The photo was in a gold coloured photo frame and rested on a small table beside Asrina's bed, leaning against the electric alarm clock that would probably be doing a good job of getting Asrina to wake up on time if she wasn't in the habit of waking up before her alarm went off. In the photo Sana was sitting in an armchair, leaning back against it with his eyes half open and smiling drowsily at Asrina, who had been the one holding the camera. The photo acted as a reminder that Asrina did have some good experiences in Dubai, even if they were outweighed by the bad experiences, and that if nothing else she had at least one friend she could rely on, even if he was in Dubai.

Because really, despite the fact that they were arranged to be married, Asrina and Sana were nothing more than good friends, best friends even. Sana was the son of an Iraqi woman, Fatima, who had been the first member of her family to be born in Dubai and never let anyone forget it, least of all her younger siblings which didn't exactly endear her to them. Her husband, Omar, belonged to a family that boasted a linage that stretched back to the very founding of Dubai, even to the very founding of Islam itself. At least, that's what they believe and claim, and it would be rather hard to disprove that so everyone just accepted the claim as fact. They both shared a sense of arrogance and superiority that initially put people off but somehow found attractive in one another. Within a few months, they were married and whilst on their honeymoon, Fatima fell pregnant and from that pregnancy, Sana arrived. By rights, Sana should have been as arrogant as his parents and have the same sense of superiority, but he didn't. Sana turned out to be a kind, gentle, and patient individual and Asrina knew he would be a good husband to her. The only problem was, Asrina did not love Sana the way one should love their future spouse. Asrina loved Sana the way one would love someone who they knew would care for them no matter what. If Sana had loved Asrina the way one should love their future spouse, Asrina would've felt bad and tried harder to love him, but he didn't. Sana loved Asrina the way a parent loves their small, lost, helpless, vulnerable, young child. Asrina knew this because Sana told her, not through his words, but through his actions (from small things to caring for Asrina when she was sick and helping her cross the road, to bigger things like helping her choose which clothes to buy or what to do for the day). And they both knew that when they eventually married, their relationship would not change and they were both fine and content and happy with that fact.

After changing out of the blouse, pencil skirt, tights, and heels she had worn to her interview, Asrina put on a loose fitting tank top and cotton shorts she had bought from American Apparel. She went into the kitchen and started making a curry with lentils before making a phone call. She held the phone to her ear and waited.

"Yes?"

Asrina smiled. "Hi mum."

"Asrina! Darling how are you?" If Asrina was asked to describe the sound of Sri Lanka, she would say that it sounded like Padma Pandaiyachi's voice; beautiful and lilting, it contained rivers and jungles and beaches and laughing children and happy family gatherings and early morning bird song, and everything else that made Sri Lanka beautiful. It was always the first thing that came to Asrina's mind when she thought about Sri Lanka. "Are you settling in to Baltimore well?"

"Yes mum." Asrina put the phone on speaker so that she could talk and cook at the same time with ease. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, just missing my daughter." She sighed and once again Asrina marveled at her mum's ability to break her heart without really trying. "Oh hang on, your dad wants to speak to you."

Asrina nodded. "Put him on then."

There was a slight pause and a slightly muffled sound and then: "Hello Asrina." While his wife's voice had in it everything beautiful about Sri Lanka, Karim Pandaiyashi's voice contained everything that made it weary. Labourers aching after a hard day. Families grieving. The silent tears of his fellow Tamils. Suffering. Although he tried to mask it with hope and optimism and faith, the pain was there and Asrina knew it always would be. "Are you well?"

"Yes dad." Asrina wondered what parts of Sri Lanka she had in her voice.

"Was that job interview today?"

"Uh huh."

The low, endless hum of traffic?

"Did it go well?"

"I think so."

The 'meows' and 'woofs' from the stray cats and dogs that roamed the streets?

"That's my girl, when will you hear back?"

"Not sure."

Buddhist chants?

"Well you'll tell us when you do won't you?"

"Of course."

Wild storms?

"Good, I'll let you talk to your mum again."

"Ok, it's good to hear your voice dad. I miss you."

Stray hisses from snakes?

"I miss you too. Here's your mum."

"Asrina are you eating well?"

"Yes mum, I'm making curry right now."

What if her voice didn't have anything from Sri Lanka? She had left the island at seven after all, was seven years enough time for someone's voice to have some of the traits of their 'home' country?

"That's good, you know your dad and I only want you to be happy and healthy."

"I know."

If that was so, did that mean Dubai was in her voice?

"Are you happy?"

"Yes mum."

But what if it wasn't?

"Good. And if you're not happy, if you're in some kind of trouble, you will tell us won't you?"

"Of course I will mum."

After all she wasn't a native of Dubai (she had been reminded of that every day she spent there). And she had left Sri Lanka at seven.

"Just making sure. Just...just call us whenever you need to or want to, ok darling?"

"Yes mum I will."

Did she have anything in her voice?

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Or was her voice empty? barren? an endless void?

"Good girl. Is there anything else?"

"No mum."

No, Asrina's voice couldn't be empty. It couldn't be.

"Ok then."

"Ok...see ya mum."

It had to have something. Everyone's voice had something in it. Something that said 'this is my voice and everything in it is part of who I am and where I come from. This is my voice and my voice is me.', so Asrina's must as well.

"Say goodbye to your dad."

"Bye dad, I love you."

'This is the voice of Asrina Pandaiyashi...'

"I love you too Asrina, look after yourself."

"Yes dad."

'...this voice must have something...'

"Call again soon Asrina."

"Yes mum. I love you."

'....it must have Sri Lanka...'

"I love you too darling. And I miss you."

"I miss you too, you and dad."

'...or even Dubai...'

"Well I won't keep you any longer, goodbye darling."

"Goodbye mum."

'...please don't tell me this voice is empty...'

Asrina hung up.

'.........'

~

Two days later Asrina's phone rang. "Hello, this is Asrina Pandaiyashi." She no longer wondered what her voice may or may not contain. She didn't want to have another thing to worry about.

"Hello Miss Pandaiyashi, this is Dr Chilton."

Asrina stopped completely, her cup of tea halfway to her mouth. "Dr Chilton. Hello." She barely registered the fact that he had gotten her name right.

"I'm calling to tell you that I've decided to hire you as my secretary."

If Asrina had been drinking her tea she would've choked on it. She slowly set her mug down, hand trembling. "Oh. Wow. Thank you Dr Chilton, I'm very grateful."

"No problem Miss Pandaiyashi, you were by far the best applicant of the lot."

"Oh. Thank you again Dr Chilton." She swallowed down her nerves before speaking again. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow, be here by at least nine."

"Yes sir." Nine. That was manageable. "Thank you again for the job Dr Chilton."

"You're very welcome Miss Pandaiyashi, have a good day."

"You too."

Dr Chilton hung up.

Asrina realized she was crying and her whole body was trembling.


End file.
